Panic
by StriderX
Summary: It's no secret that James freezes when he's overwhelmed. Everybody knows it's not normal, but the guys know exactly how to handle it. The story of James' first panic attack and how he decided freezing was a better option. No slash, just lots of brotherly care. (Rated T for mild language and thematic elements)
1. Year 14

**A/N:** Hey guys! Here's a multi-chapter for your enjoyment! It is finished, so no chance of discontinuation. I apologize for any errors grammatically or otherwise...I'm trying to squeeze in posting and writing after work. Have fun!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own BTR.

**Notes:** Yes, I know James' b-day is in September in the show, but I went with July for the sake of fluidity.

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**Panic****  
****Chapter 1: Year 14**

No matter who you were or where you lived, there was one sad, terrifying truth that was universally accepted by everyone (except maybe one or two strange cases): age 14 was always a horrible year. Boy or girl, rich or poor, it was the year everything changed. Your voice cracked, your body ached, none of your clothes fit right, and, on top of it all, you became a high school freshman. No matter how good the previous summer may have been, all of your previous popularity and cafeteria rights get flushed down the toilet in a blur of zits, body odor, and _bullies_.

James Diamond thought that he could be one of the few exceptions to this pathetic truth when he turned the cursed year. His birthday was in July; right at the beginning of summer. He'd been quick to grow so far—of all the guys, he was already a full head above most of the kids around, and thanks to hockey, his body was filling out nicely with the curves and tone of an athlete. His voice was still a little awkward at times, but he was okay with that…especially after Mindy Johnson down the street said she thought it was cute. And let's be honest, he had the greatest hair of any teenager, _ever_.

On top of all of this, he had the three best friends in the whole world. As far as James was concerned, there was _nothing_ that could ruin his first year of high school. He _would_ be one of the lucky ones.

Oh, but how wrong he was.

When the bus pulled up to the county High School and the guys piled out with all their "first day" jitters, they instantly found themselves frozen on the sidewalk. They'd passed the place before, of course, but to stand in front of it actually having to _go in_, nothing but fear burst through them.

The building was huge. Enormous, actually. Kids from all around the county flocked there for their forced education. Last year, as Logan read, there were over 700 in the senior class…and that's not counting the drop-outs. Even from outside, it reeked of awkward and misery.

Stealing quick looks at each other, the guys took a deep breath, stepped forward, and promptly fell on their faces.

Ruthless laughs and giggles echoed all around them as a group of senior jocks admired their trick. Kendall barked and cursed when he looked down to see his shoelace tied to Logan's, Logan's to Carlos's, and Carlos's to James'.

"Ha! Welcome to your worst nightmare dweebs!" Marc O'Reilly howled, clapping his teammates on the shoulders before sauntering off.

James rolled his eyes. It _would_ have to be _those_ bullies that would haunt them all year. Ever since grade school, Marc and his gang thrived on attacking James, Kendall, Logan, and Carlos. It was a battle for territory, really. And this year, Marc was the senior hockey captain; Kendall was the rising hockey star. As far as Marc was concerned, there could only be _one_ star in every school, and he did everything in his power to make sure it was _him_.

Before anyone could stop him, Kendall ripped out his tied shoelace and bolted across the schoolyard shouting bloody murder. James and Carlos were quick to follow, leaving Logan to pick up the rear begging them to "_let it go_."

And so James realized, as he and his friends ended up bloody and bruised in the principal's office on the very first day of their freshman year, maybe he _wouldn't_ be one of those glorious exceptions after all.

The time to come only served to prove that fact so solidly in James' mind that he all but gave up hope completely that any part of year 14 would be enjoyable. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into cold Minnesota months. By December, James was failing four classes, two penalties away from expulsion of the hockey team, and so beyond exhaustion he barely cared anymore.

The guys noticed, of course, even though James refused to admit that life was anything but fine—that things weren't exactly as perfect as he made them out to be. But they knew whatever was wrong went far beyond school difficulties and irritating bullies.

"We need to do something," Logan finally announced one day between classes. He, Kendall, and Carlos were gathered around Kendall's locker. An uncharacteristically heavy silence had been hanging between them all day. James was still in class, held back by the teacher. If there were any time to have this conversation, Logan figured, right then was it. "I think something's really wrong with James."

Kendall sighed, forgetting the books he'd been searching his locker for. "I know, but we've tried everything already. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to talk about it."

Logan rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean he _shouldn't_. I mean…if we don't figure out how to help soon, he's going to explode…or drop out. Either way, we've got'ta do something."

Carlos looked worried. It was an expression that settled particularly heartbreaking on his innocent face. "He'd do anything to help us."

"I know that, Carlos," Kendall agreed softly. There was silence again as Kendall thought. And then, _lightbulb._ "Look, we have a four day weekend starting tomorrow. Four days, just the four of us doing everything James loves the most. Maybe that will cheer him up?"

Logan and Carlos grinned. Kendall always had the best plans. "Movie marathons, hockey, and cocoa!" Carlos exclaimed triumphantly.

"The perfect weekend," agreed Logan.

"What's perfect?"

Kendall, Logan, and Carlos jumped as James suddenly appeared behind them with a small smile.

They all saw the sadness lingering deep in his eyes. Carlos took it upon himself to make it better, as he often did. "Only what will surely be the most epic four-day-weekend ever!" he grinned, throwing an arm around his tall friend.

James chuckled. "Do we have plans?"

Logan and Kendall shared a knowing glance. "Oh, we have plans," said Kendall, they grew serious. "Hey, what'd the teacher want?"

James shrugged as his friends stared at him expectantly. "Oh nothin'…just told me if I fail another test, I flunk the class."

He said it as if he said he needed to do laundry, but Logan saw through it. "Flunk?! But you've always gotten good grades in health class!"

James just shrugged again, expression blank. "It's no big deal. I just have to ace Tuesday's test, that's all," very quickly, James faked a peak at his watch. "I got'ta run guys, see ya' at practice later."

And off he went, casually bolting down the hall without a trace. "Well that was strange…" Kendall muttered.

"Yeah," Logan's brow creased with worry. "He's not even wearing a watch."

* * *

3:25 rolled around quickly that day. Logan met up with Kendall and Carlos outside the locker room just as they came out, changed for practice. "Hey, where's James?"

Kendall's deep brows furrowed. "We were hoping he was already changed with you? Practice starts in five minutes!"

Logan shook his head. "No, I got caught up in chemistry earlier! He can't be late again, Coach'll kill him!"

Carlos hopped up and down nervously as his two friends freaked out. He was about to volunteer to find their missing brother when—

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" they heard James yelling as he bolted down the hall, backpack whipping painfully as he ran. "I know, I know, I'm late. I got it. Just got'ta change!" he didn't even stop when he reached the boys, just rushed through them and into the locker room at a speed only his long legs could muster.

Meanwhile, the other three sighed in relief and made their way to the rink. If nothing else, maybe they could delay Coach a minute to give James a chance to sneak in. He'd been late five times in the past month; something their coach simply would not tolerate, no matter what the reason. Besides that, he'd already gained more penalties and warnings then Kendall and Carlos put together. Many were undeserved and mattered little to the Coach, but the 'unsportsmanlike conduct' strikes put him on Coach's bad side forever.

That was the great downside of this particular hockey season: the Coach was also Marc O'Reilly's uncle. So, when Marc threw a punch at Kendall last month and James beat the crap out of him for it…let's just say that what was a slap on the wrist for Marc turned into a federal offense for James. He'd been benched for three games, and warned that just two more penalties would have him kicked off the team for the rest of the year.

That being said, James couldn't afford to be late again.

In the locker room, James changed in record time, getting out his gear and lacing up his skates with just enough extra seconds to take a deep breath. He was trying desperately not to think about _why_ he'd almost been late, but he couldn't help it. The school guidance counselor had cornered him after math class. The kindly old woman's face was solemn and concerned. She mistook his sudden turn for bad grades as a lack of responsibility. She berated him quietly, warning that if he didn't pull it together before the semester's end, he'd likely get held back a year. He tried to convince her that he had everything under control, but her expression quickly turned hard as steel.

"_This is your freshman year of high school, James. If you mess up now, you'll ruin everything for yourself."_

Her words haunted him as he changed for hockey practice. Absently, he felt his heartbeat fluttering in his chest when he breathed and the slight tremble to his hands as he furiously tied the laces of his skates. Before he could dwell on it, James shook his head and slapped his cheek lightly.

"In the moment, Diamond. Don't think about it. You got this," he instructed himself quietly as he grabbed his hockey stick and left the quiet room for the ice rink.

The guys had covered for him, as he knew he would, and practice started without trouble. Still, James just couldn't shake the trembling beneath his skin. Every movement, every thought seemed to electrify itself inside his veins, and suddenly concentrating on hockey drills seemed hopeless.

Risking a look at the LED clock above the rink, James counted the minutes until practice was over. 60, 59, 58…even as he rushed from one side of the rink to the other with the rest of the team, he could feel himself slowly losing control.

He wasn't paying attention. He hadn't even been looking where he was going until _bang!_ James' skates ripped out from under him. He swore he's just collided with a brick wall. But looking up, he caught the angry red stare of one Marc O'Reilly. Eyes widening, James realized what he'd done. All the sudden, he was wishing there _was_ a brick wall.

From afar, he heard his friends calling his name, but they were on the other side of the rink. Too far away to save him.

"What's your problem, Diamond?!" Marc boomed in a deep, growling voice. Abruptly, the enormous senior grabbed a hold of the collar of James' jersey and ripped him to a wobbly stand.

On a normal day, James would have no problem defending himself. He might be smaller than the bad-tempered senior, but he was also faster…_normally_. That particular day found James weak at the knees and bordering on hyperventilation. Forcing a nervous smile to his face, James tried to talk the big boy down. He already knew it wouldn't work. "H-hey Marc…I am _soo_ sorry about that. Ha…guess I j-just blanked out for a min-minute, ya' know?"

Marc grinned, but it wasn't comforting. "Yeah," he began, grey eyes piercing like lasers. "I do. Why don't you go _blank out_ somewhere else, huh?"

Before James could even react, Marc's fist plowed through his cheek and pushed him back. Dazed, James lost his balance and crashed to the ice.

Vision spotting with black, James lay sprawled on the ice, relishing the coldness on his cheek. Even through the growing slowness of his consciousness, he could hear yelling and fighting all around him. He tried to look, tried to watch, but if Marc had one thing, it was a solid knock-out punch.

Around him, Carlos, Logan, and Kendall had arrived to his rescue, all though a little late. The team was squared off in a battle between sides: those who liked Kendall and those who followed Marc. In a flurry of seconds, the rink echoed with the sounds of punching, yelling, and hockey sticks cracking. Blood spotted the ice and splinters tripped up skates, but the rage of the team was far too gone to notice.

Until, that is, the piercing echo of an air horn exploded through the air and silenced the boys frozen.

"What on _Earth_ is going on in here?!"

James groaned, recognizing the voice in a heartbeat.

Coach.

"I leave you rats for _one minute_ and _this_ is what you do!" the intimidating ex-marine was screaming. There wasn't a boy on that ice who didn't shrink back in fear. Even Marc twitched. The big man stomped onto the ice and shoved his way to the center of the fight.

There he found two things: James, barely conscious with Logan hovering protectively beside him, and Kendall holding Marc in a fierce headlock.

"Explain. NOW!" he screamed, making Kendall jump so bad he released Marc.

Logan knew it was his turn. "James knocked into Marc, and _he_ punched him for it," he stated simply, voice steady and eyes glaring fearlessly at the bloodied senior.

Coach's eyes narrowed and glare settled on his nephew. "Is that true, Marc?"

Suddenly the big bad jock was cowering. "H-he was attacking me for no reason!" he yelled, shoving an excusing finger in James' direction. "_He _started it!"

James tried to get up, tried to defend himself, but his head was splitting and the slick wetness dripping down his cheek was making him nauseas. He wanted to be strong and take the hit like a man, but Kendall beat him to it.

"Oh, right!" the blonde started, temper exploding. "Like James would actually run into you on purpose! Cut the crap, O'Reilly! You just want him off the team because he's _better than you_!"

That struck a bone. But just as Marc was about to pounce, Coach ripped out his air-horn again. This time he aimed right in front of the boys' faces. Kendall yelled, Marc covered his ears, and silence fell around them again. "That's ENOUGH! I've had _enough_ of you maggots today! Go home, all of you! NOW!"

Most of the team scattered quickly, some not even bothering to grab their things in the locker room. Marc would have stayed behind to finish the fight with Kendall, but his uncle had other plans. With only Marc and Kendall and his friends left on the ice, Coach's glaring deepened. "You," he pointed to Marc. "Wait for me in my office. Go."

Marc sulked and pouted, but did what he was told. As he left the ice, Coach turned back to the last four boys left. He looked at each of them, staring them down. Carlos had a black eye already forming, but was still standing strong with broken hockey stick in hand. Kendall was worse for wear, but also standing; his lip was split and cheek was bruised. Logan didn't seem to have any injures. Coach imagined he'd forgone all the fighting in order to check on his fallen friend. Internally, the Coach's military background respected the boy's loyalty.

And then there was James.

_James._ Coach shook his head. Of course he wasn't an idiot. The kid _did_ have talent on the ice, but he simply wouldn't follow the pecking order. Marc was a senior. Coach needed _him_ to be the star this year. Not a bunch of scrawny freshman. Currently the kid was slowly picking himself up from the ice, eyes glazed and blood streaming down his cheek from Marc's solid punch.

"You four have been a thorn in my side all year. Knight, Garcia, Mitchell, I'm writing each of your up with warnings. One more and you're out," he added, directing to Kendall and Carlos.

"Diamond," he drawled out, eyes boring into James' just to scare him.

James held his breath. His heart was already fluttering; he knew what was coming.

"You're done."

And suddenly, all the boys were up in arms screaming a chorus of '_What?!' _and '_that's not fair!' _Only Coach's air-horn shut them up again.

He looked back to James, who seemed close to tears. "I don't care _who's_ fault this whole mess was. You've been warned more than once, Diamond. You're off the team for the rest of the season. Fix your attitude and try again next year."

Before even giving them a chance to fight back, Coach turned and walked off the ice, leaving them alone and more than a little depressed.

James, for his part, was determined to take this latest disappointment well. His heart was pounding in his ears, and it was a little hard to breathe, but he knew he had it under control. Taking a deep sigh, he ran a trembling hand through his hair and shook his head, ashamed. "I'm sorry guys, this's all my fault," his voice was quiet and strained. They could see just how hard he was trying to hide it.

All three of them acted at once. Logan put a gentle hand on James' shoulder. Carlos and Kendall both skated close, expressions sad and riddled with unplaced guilt. "No way, man," Carlos started. "It's not your fault the O'Reilly clan's a bunch of jerks."

Kendall was steaming; his temper was still overflowing from the fight. "That _a-hole _ should've gotten dropped, not you!"

James forced himself to smile. "Don't worry about it. There's only a couple months left of the season anyway," he was desperately trying to lift the guys' spirits, and his own. "Besides, maybe now I can pick my grades up!"

With his proclamation, James jumped up. Maybe a little too fast. "Whoa there, buddy," Logan yelped, rushing to support James when the taller boy swayed. "Are you _sure_ you're okay? You should really see the nurse."

James shrugged him off. Yes, he appreciated the gesture and (honestly) would rather have Logan's help, but he was more concerned about his clever friend noticing how he was trembling; how his heart felt as if it was about to explode.

"Naa…I'm good, really," he grinned, pulling away. "Listen guys I got'ta get home. Mom wanted me right after practice, and I got'ta clean this up first," he added, gesturing to his cheek.

Kendall sighed. He'd really thought James was _finally_ going to tell them what was going on, but alas. No luck today. "You still comin' over tonight? Movies and cocoa, remember?"

For a fraction of a second, James' eyes widened. "Oh, yeah, yeah…right. Lem'me check with Mom, and I'll text ya'," not waiting for an answer, James quickly skated off the ice and made for the lockers.

Carlos, Kendall, and Logan shared looks. Logan huffed, "I'm telling you, man. Something is _seriously_ wrong with him. I mean…he's actually _shaking_. I know James's always been sensitive, but never about a fight."

Carlos nodded. "Yeah, and I feel like he's gon'na blow us off later, too."

Kendall sighed again and shook his head. Sometimes he felt more like a worried father than a friend…and _he_ was the youngest. "I know, I know…but we can't force it out of him. He'll tell us when he's ready," then, smirking, added "our job is just to make sure he's ready sometime this weekend."

**TBC  
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**A/N: **So, interested? Please review! It will make me post the next chapter sooner! :) Thanks!


	2. Needing Space

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who's taken the moment to review! It means a lot! Hope you enjoy chapter 2!

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**Panic****  
****Chapter 2: Needing Space**

_6:03pm_

_From: Jamie_

_Hey. Somethin came up, mom needs me home tonight. Sorry. I'll come over tomorrow when I can._

Kendall must have read that text fifty times over the course of last night and this morning. No matter how many times he analyzed the simple message, something just didn't seem right. Sure, it was no secret that Mrs. Diamond was a little…possessive of her son, but rarely to the extent that she wouldn't let him out. And when it was, James had no problem with whining for exactly what reason in great detail. This text was just so _vague_.

He'd read it to Carlos and Logan, and they'd agreed—succeeding only in making his worry worse.

Now it was 11:00am the following day, and still no sign of James.

From his bowl of powdered donut-o's, Carlos couldn't take the waiting anymore. "Kendall, find out where James is! He's missing all the fun!"

The sheer size of Carlos's pout was more than enough to convince Kendall, if he hadn't already pulled out his phone to text their wayward brother.

_11:07am_

_To: Jamie_

_Yo! James! Wakey wakey and get over here!_

Kendall smiled at his text. Surly _three_ explanation points would get the other boy's attention.

Two minutes pass, three…

Then the famous _ping!_ of Kendall's phone.

_11:11am_

_From: Jamie_

_Sorry, can't. Got somethin' to take care of. Be there later. Sorry._

"What? What'd he say?!" Logan pressed. The waiting was destroying his appetite for the long-weekend breakfast foods he craved.

Running a hand through his mussed sandy hair, Kendall flipped his phone down on the table. "He says he's _'got something to take care of'_," then, angrily, he yells, "_Seriously?!_ _Something to take care of?_ Who says that?!"

"Is he coming at all?" Carlos asks with the saddest little expression.

Knowing how much Carlos hates his temper, Kendall forces himself to calm down. "He says he'll be here later."

"It's not healthy; whatever he's doing…this hiding things from us…"

Kendall knew he should be paying attention to Logan's anxious rant, but he'd picked up his phone again and subtly silenced it; he was itching to reply. Just one private text, just between him and James, no narrating involved.

_11:17am_

_To: Jamie_

_What's going on man?_

It was over an hour before Kendall felt the soft vibration of a reply.

_12:45pm_

_From: Jamie_

_I'm sorry…I can't_

* * *

James really couldn't believe it. Everything about turning fourteen seemed so exciting and perfect when it happened. Now, barely six months later, he felt like his whole world was imploding around him. He was failing school, losing weight he couldn't afford to lose, and just yesterday he'd been kicked off the hockey team for a punch he didn't even throw.

Walking through the dirtied sidewalk snow, he felt as low and useless as the black dirt streaks riddling the once-perfect flakes. Early that morning, he'd told his mother he needed to walk over to the office supply store a few blocks over for a school project.

He'd been lying.

He didn't need any supplies, and he was pretty sure the tiny shop was closed for last night's snow anyway. What he _really_ needed was some time, some air; some _space_ to clear his head.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, James ventured off the city path to a snowy park trail. His heartbeat was slow and controlled today (especially after Kendall's text earlier), but he kept overheating; feeling like he couldn't breathe even though everything inside him told him he _could_. He'd shed his heavy coat and left it on the porch the second he left the house. His hat and scarf were stuffed limp and unused in his pocket not long after.

Staring blankly at the glittering white hanging heavy on the trees, he felt empty, _detached._

Suddenly, he didn't care about being strong, about hiding his secrets; about anything.

Three months ago, his Dad took a job with a band in Texas. He promised James he'd call every night, and James' Mother that he'd come home every chance he could. Two months ago, the man told his wife he couldn't make it home that month. One month ago, he told James that he just didn't have time to call, that '_no,_ he couldn't make James' hockey game.'

James had long decided that he didn't care about his Dad anymore.

But he _did_ care about his Mom, and _she_ still loved her husband with all her heart (no matter what faults their relationship might have). It tore James apart inside to watch her slowly crumble and wither, day by day, realization by realization.

He was only fourteen, but he had already seen more emotional breakdowns, more sleepless nights, more secret…_hospital visits_ than anyone should. Really, how could he care about stupid things like grades and sports? These thoughts bitterly swept over him as he absently kicked a pile of snow dropped from an overhead branch.

He seemed ill, to look at him from a passing glance. Deep purple stains crept under his eyes and marbled with the black and green of yesterday's black eye. The cut on his cheek and been cleaned and dressed, but it was still open and raw, held together by two small white bandages. He figured he'd probably always have a little scar, but it seemed par for the course right then.

Suddenly, he realized he'd stopped walking. He was standing at the edge of Hollow's Lake. The water was slick and opaque with the freeze of ice. James snorted a dark snicker. He was a lot like the lake, he figured: both calm and silent outside while exploding with violent currents and muck underneath.

He was trying so hard not to think about the last twelve hours. But somehow, the memories peaked up, haunting him, and beat his heart like a speed-punch bag.

Yesterday, he'd gone home from school depressed and cold. How was he supposed to explain his day to his unstable mother? He was sure she'd be so disappointed the news would simply fling her over the edge for good. What he found when he got home was so much worse.

He remembered the night in snippets, fragments.

There was elation, at first, when he spotted his Dad's car in the drive.

Then fear when he heard screaming through the front door.

A vase crashed into the wall by his head as the door opened.

His mother was cursing. His father was too. James heard them even now: _"You're CHEATING on me!", "I hate you!", "We're through!", "I never want to see you again,", "See you in court!", _and finally _"Oh, James."_

He'd tried to fight them then, to stop them, to _fix_ everything. But, of course he couldn't. His father left in a nuclear explosion, but not before destroying James' soul and everything he'd loved. _"I never wanted a son."_

James had been shell-shocked; he couldn't say anything, only stand and watch as his father drove away and mother sobbed behind him.

Now, he just felt empty.

When he texted Kendall last night, his mother was in the hospital for 'thoughts that scared her'—this was all she would tell her son. But James wasn't stupid: he'd seen the bottles, seen the pills.

She stayed overnight, and James sat beside her, silently watching and protecting until the pull of sorrow and sleep finally won over.

At nine a.m. the next day (this morning) James' aunt—his mother's older sister—picked them up and took them home with a promise and doctor's orders to watch the grieving woman twenty-four-seven.

At first, he told himself he'd stay by her side, too; do anything to help her through this. But then the pains started. Clutching his chest, James could feel his chest closing in; could _see_ the walls closing in around him, wanting to eat him alive.

Then, as his vision spotted with black dots, and nausea gripped his stomach, he knew he had to get out; get away.

Pulling himself back to the present, James' breath forced out in a ragged puff of steam. He _did_ feel a little better now. But nothing still made sense. There were still no answers. But deep inside himself, he knew exactly what he needed now…_who_ he needed to help him through.

Just then, he felt his phone buzz in his hoodie pocket. Pulling it out, he almost smiled.

_11:17am_

_From: Kendall_

_What's going on man?_

The text was sent over an hour ago, but between everything, this was the first time James had noticed. Wordlessly, he shrugged. It was perfect timing anyway.

Pulling his other hand out of his pocket, James moved to reply, but suddenly found his breath hitching and courage failing. Could he really come clean? After all this time, could he really just _let it out_?

And then the spots were back, his chest grew tight, his heart raced. Feeling ready to collapse, he swiped out a quick reply and shoved the phone back in his pocket; eyes watering with shame and fear.

_12:45pm_

_To: Kendall_

_I'm sorry…I can't_

* * *

To say that James' delayed reply alarmed Kendall was a severe understatement. He ran through it over and over in his mind: _"I'm sorry…I can't,"_ James' had said.

Anger and temper furthest from his mind, Kendall interrupted Logan and Carlos's video game and showed them the message.

"We need to find him. Now," was all Kendall said.

Nodding quickly, Logan and Carlos jumped up from the couch and threw on the closest outdoor clothes they could find as Kendall went downstairs to tell his Mom they were going out.

"Be careful, boys, don't get cold!" Mrs. Knight called after them after making sure they were properly dressed.

"We will Mom, love you," her son called back quickly, making her smile.

Outside, the boys discussed their best plan of action. "Okay," Kendall announced; always the plan maker. "First we check his house, than go from there."

The trek to their missing brother's house was slippery and quiet, but Kendall felt the air drop five degrees when the large house finally came into view. One of the living room windows was covered by a sheet of plywood, like it had been shattered during the night. There were bits and pieces of a broken lamp in the snow under the window.

As they crossed the street, Logan noticed tire marks burnt into the salted pavement just in front of the house.

Stealing nervous glances, Kendall led the way to the front door, and, sucking in a breath, rang the bell.

Slow seconds past before they heard the lock disengage, knob twist, and saw the heavy door pull back. A woman they didn't recognize stood before them.

"Can I help you?" she called in a soft, sad voice.

"Um, yeah," Kendall spoke up. "Is James here?"

The older woman shook her head. "I'm sorry boys, he's not here," she spoke so quietly, Carlos wondered if there was someone sleeping right behind her.

"Do you know where we can find him?"

Again, she shook her head. "He said he was going to the office store, but that was an hour ago. I'm not sure where he is now."

"Oh," Kendall wasn't sure what to say. Whoever this woman was, she didn't seem very apt to give them any information. "Um, mam, we're James' best friends…is everything okay?"

If possible, the curly blonde grew even sadder. "I'm sorry boys, it's not my place to say anything right now. But, if you _are_ close with James, please find him for me and take care of him, alright?"

"T-take care of him? Why is he hurt?!" from under his helmet, Carlos looked like a child who's just lost his favorite candy.

Thankfully his inadvertent tactic worked on the lady. "He's going through a very difficult time. Find him, and I'm sure he'll explain everything for himself."

"Okay," Kendall was nodding even as he started backing up. More than ever, he wanted to find James, _now_. "Thank you."

"Oh! And boys," she called quietly, gently catching Logan by the wrist. "When you find him, can you have him call me, just so I know he's alright? He won't respond to my texts."

"Sure," Logan smiled kindly before running off to follow Kendall and Carlos.

* * *

Hiking down the street with renewed purpose and fierce anxiety, the boys tried to figure out a plan.

"Whad'ya think she meant by James going through a 'hard time?' You think it's why he's not doing good in school?" Carlos was worrying out loud, but Kendall and Logan didn't mind. They were agonizing over the same questions.

Still, they had to stay focused. For James's sake. "I don't know, Carlos, but we've got'ta find him if we're gon'na find out," Kendall states quickly. "Where would he go?"

Logan's turn. "Well, he wouldn't be at the rink; he can't be without us now. Let's see…"

A silence hung between them for a tense moment until…

"The lake!" Carlos suddenly blurted out. "He always goes there when something's bugging him!"

Clicking his fingers together, Kendall grinned his agreement and took off running; despite the fifteen-degree weather, none of them felt the cold—just a wild worry and protective surge rushing in their veins as they ran.

**TBC**

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up soon!


	3. Breakdown

**A/N:** Hello Rushers! Pretty intense chapter up here. Enjoy!

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**Panic****  
****Chapter 3: Breakdown**

It was well after one when the boys made it to the lake. It was quiet and surprisingly deserted for a school-vacation day, but then again, the ice was still too thin to skate on and it was _snowman_ cold out there. Even through their heavy jackets and scarves, the boys shivered as they peered around the banks for James.

"Ooh! There! Look!" Carlos shouted, jumping up and down (half for warmth, half for excitement). "There he is!"

"Thank God," Logan muttered under his breath, but they all heard it. Taking off running to their best friend, none of the boys could remember feeling so relieved.

"James!" Kendall called out as they approached from the left. He still knew something was wrong, but for the time being, just seeing his oldest friend _there_ and _standing_ was good enough for him.

Until he saw his eyes.

When James turned to his voice, Kendall skidded to a stop, Logan and Carlos nearly crashing into him in the process. The tall fourteen-year-old's normally bright hazel eyes were dull and grey and shimmering with a silent pain. His expression bordered between blank and troubled, and his skin was pallid and wan.

Kendall could feel hesitation grasping at his heart. James was always so full of life. So happy. Even yesterday, while he seemed a little tired, nothing appeared drastically out of the ordinary. But now…

James looked dead.

Quieter, softer, Kendall took a step forward while motioning for Logan and Carlos to stay put behind him. "James? Everyone's worried about you. Are you okay?"

Emotionless, James snorted a cynical breath and shrugged, turning back to the frozen lake as if he'd been answering a question about how fish sleep.

Risking another step, Kendall got closer. From three feet away, he could see James visibly shaking. He was wearing only a pair of threadbare jeans and a long-sleeve hoodie aside from his sneakers. From the bulge of his hands stuffed in the hoodies' pockets, Kendall could tell James wasn't wearing gloves either, and his hat and scarf were hanging from his back pocket. "What're you doing out here? And where's your coat?"

To these, James offered no more than a shrug as answer.

Not able to stand the distance anymore, Logan and Carlos snuck forward, too. "Com'on, Jamie…please talk to us," Carlos tried.

James closed his eyes, seemingly trying to collect himself. "I can't…" he mumbled, voice broken and lost.

"Why not, James? You know you can trust us with anything," Logan tried to encourage.

But James shook his head abruptly; violently screwing shut his eyes as his hands formed tight fists in his pockets. "Y-you d-don't under-stand…" his clenched teeth ground his words and turned them venomous with sorrow.

"Then help us understand. Let us in, _please_."

Kendall's words were soft—barely above a whisper—but combined with the gentle hand he laid over James' shoulder, it was simply too much for the grieving teen to bear.

He broke.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, James wasn't an idiot. He may not be as bright as Logan, but he certainly wasn't a dunce…usually. For example, the reason he _normally _got good grades in health class was because he was honestly interested in the subject. He knew that the heart was a muscle, not an organ, that what you put on your skin affects the health of your body; he knew that the first symptoms of a panic attack are an elevated heart rate, dizziness, headache, nausea, and the immense feeling of losing control.

Over the last three months, he'd somehow forgotten this information, choosing instead to block it out and ignore the problem completely. Until, that is, right now.

When he heard Kendall's voice calling out his name, he thought his heart was going to implode in on itself. Beating so fast, so out of rhythm, he stopped breathing, settling instead for short unnoticeable pants.

Unconsciously, he found himself looking at his friends; he knew it was a mistake before his neck turned. The sight of Carlos and Logan worriedly staring at him, of Kendall's strong emerald eyes piercing through his soul…it was too much. His heartbeat rushed into his head and flooded all other thought, pounding and throbbing and sending black fuzz around the edges of his vision.

Consciously, he knew he was panicking, losing control; going _crazy_.

He tried to speak, tried to answer his friends' calls, but his teeth were clenched tight, and the words kept getting caught in the lack of air vacuuming inside his lungs.

And then, he felt something. Something warm and loving, and so far better than anything he deserved: the hand of a brother on his shoulder, and Kendall's soft voice in his ear.

"_Let us in…please_."

When he looked back on it later, James could still describe exactly what happened to his mind at that precise moment. It was Fourth of July fireworks, the breaking of the Hoover Dam; the atomic bomb over Japan. It was all of those things, and so much louder. He remembered hearing a distinct _crack_ deep inside him, and suddenly gulping in such a large flood of air that his lungs nearly froze.

Almost outside himself, he felt himself falling and collapsing to his knees in the snow. He felt the volcano of sobs ravage his throat and burst from his weary eyes. He felt his heart race out of control. He heard his breath skip and lurch with the sheer force of an elephant in his chest.

But more than anything else, he felt two arms wrap around him, enveloping him so tightly he thought he might just disappear inside them.

He was losing it, breaking down, and falling completely out of control, and for the first time in months, he felt alive again.

Kendall had bolted forward the second James' knees buckled. He caught him just as the taller boy touched the snow, and instantly pulled him into a tight embrace. His own eyes glistening with empathy, Kendall looked to Logan and Carlos, shock riddling their faces. Neither had ever even seen James shed a tear before; forget have what appeared to be an emotional breakdown. Silently, Kendall nodded a little encouragement to them. It would be okay now, Kendall was sure of it. As ugly and difficult as this was, he knew it was also the first step to finding out what was going on. They seemed to understand, relaxing a little and settling to hover at a respectful distance.

Of course they were all best friends, but they were all closest to one another in their own ways. And for James, he was closest to Kendall on a deeply_ emotional_ level. No one really knew why, but James figured it had something to do with the fact that Kendall saw him cry one day in pre-k when an older kid called him fat. Kendall had stood up for him that day when no one else would, and he became James' hero.

This fact understood, Carlos and Logan stood quietly, watching their strongest brother break down, sobbing with such heart wrenching wails that they found tears streaming down their cheeks, too.

At each violent convulsion, they watched as Kendall's grip tightened, shielding James from both the world and the cold. They couldn't see the boy's face from where it was hidden in poof of Kendall's jacket, but, secretly, they were glad for that. Just the sight of him curled so small with Kendall's hand braiding through his snow-damp hair as the blond whispered into his ear was nearly too much to handle.

"You've got'ta calm down, buddy. I'm right here, we all are. It's okay, it's okay, Jamie. I'll protect you," Kendall urged over and over again, his eyes bright as his own tears threatened to fall.

"C-c-can't," James choked out, nearly vomiting for the pressure inside him.

"You've got'ta try, just deep breaths," Kendall tried. James _needed _to calm down. "See, listen to me, in, out," as he demonstrated, he pulled James closer to his chest, hoping his friend could feel the rhythm.

At first, there was no change, just sobs and retches full of tears. Then, slowly, as Kendall continued his mantra _"in, out, in, out"_, James' cries began to slow, and coughs started to subside.

Slow, intense minutes passed and Logan and Carlos tried to hold together. Logan was in awe of the calming power Kendall possessed. He knew the blonde teen had no desire to follow him into the medical field, but for a certainty, the boy had a gift. In less than five minutes, James' breath slowed and only tiny hiccups shook his frame.

He seemed to fit perfectly inside Kendall's arms despite their size difference, and James showed no desire to move anytime soon.

They could see his face now as he'd turned to rest his head on the inside of Kendall's shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot and half-closed, but seemed to be regaining their natural life. His cheeks were tear-stained and hair was matted to his forehead, but when he looked up and offered a little smile, it was the most beautiful thing either Carlos or Logan had ever seen. It was sad and helpless, but it was _real_; the first genuine smile they'd seen out of their best friend in months.

"I'm sorry guys," he finally whispered after a few minutes of silence. Kendall showed no signs of pulling away from his brother, but James was coming back to himself, and with himself came at least a _piece_ of his pride. Still trembling a little, he sat up on his own accord and stared at the snow. "Uhg, I'm a mess," he laughed nervously, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.

Kendall had let him pull away, but he still sat close by in the snow. Logan and Carlos scooted closer now, too. "Don't be," Kendall smiled. "It's just us. You don't have to hide from us, you know that."

James nodded, still sniffing a few leftover tears. "Y-yeah I know. It's just…God, I don't even know how to start."

With an expression somewhere between parental concern and personal survival, Logan shivered. "How about we start by going bad to Kendall's and getting warm before we _all_ get sick?" because he already knew that James was going to get sick no matter if he felt cold or not.

Sharing small smiles, the boys readily agreed with Logan. Though the afternoon was growing, it felt like the temperature was dropping in tens.

* * *

The walk back to Kendal's house was quiet, but James somehow felt calmer then he had in a long while. At first, he tried standing strong on his own, but found his chest still tight and legs numb from sitting so long in the wet snow. His brothers were more than willing to help.

Carlos hovered close on one side, hoping to warm James while Kendall kept a steady arm around James' waist. Kendall realized then just how much weight James had lost recently. In years past, James had always been heavier and bulkier then Kendall (often squishing his younger friend), but today Kendall easily supported the taller boy's lean weight.

When they finally reached the quaint little house, Carlos and Logan ushered James upstairs in search of new warm, dry clothes. Kendall would be soon to follow, but first went in search of his mother.

He found her at the kitchen table, appearing to be reading a book. "Hey, Mom, we're back."

When she looked up, Kendall caught the worry in her eyes and suddenly knew she was already aware of what he was hiding. On the table beside her, he spotted the house phone and a used tissue. "Did you find him?" she asked softly, than continued at the question hovering on her son's face. "Logan's Mom called. She said she saw an ambulance pull into the Diamond's driveway late last night. I called over there and talked to Brooke's sister. She said she sent you boys to find James."

Kendall couldn't help but frown. "Yeah, we found him. He's upstairs."

Mrs. Knight sighed, clearly relived, but still anxious at the quiet seriousness embedded in Kendall's stance. "Is he okay?"

Shaking his head, Kendall leaned on the table and crossed his arms; they were still shivering from the winter air. "No, but he's finally talking a little."

"Would you like me to talk to him?"

Kendall thought about it for a moment. It was true, his Mom really was like a second mother to all the boys, but somehow it just didn't feel like what James needed at the moment. "Not yet. Thanks, though, Mom."

She smiled a little sadly. "You're a good friend, Kendall. Let me know if you need anything."

Kendall grinned. "Actually, some hot cocoa would be awesome."

Laughing, Mrs. Knight stood. "Four mugs, extra marshmallows? Coming right up."

"Thanks."

**TBC**

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**A/N:** Thanks so much for all your support! Next chapter will be up soon! Major bromance coming!


	4. Warmth

**A/N:** A great big thanks to my wonderful reviewers! Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations :)

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**Panic****  
****Chapter 4: Warmth**

The boys were all quiet in the living room of the Knight family's little home. As the golden glow from the fireplace warmed their numb toes, they watched James out of the corner of their eyes—Carlos peaked at him every time he ducked into his mug of hot chocolate; Kendall and Logan took turns shifting their eyes when Carlos wasn't looking. They knew it would bother James to know that they were staring as if in only a moment he'd collapse into a sobbing mess again. As it was, their damaged brother was curled in the center of the couch, closest to the fire, with a steaming cup of cocoa clutched in shaking hands and a blanket tucked under his feet.

Though difficult, they didn't force him to talk; just watched, waited, and tried to warm up their own shivering bodies. Earlier, while James was in the bathroom, Logan had whispered a caution to Carlos and Kendall: _"Try not to push him…I think he had a panic attack. We need to make sure he doesn't have another one."_

_Panic attack._ Kendall almost couldn't wrap his mind around it. James was strong; he'd always been the most easy-going of them all. In fact, more than once, Kendall wondered how James could take _everything_ without letting it bother him. But now…Kendall couldn't help but fear that James was a much better actor than anyone gave him credit for. Seeing him curled up on the couch, so small and fragile—could it be that James had been hurting a lot longer than any of them knew?

Kendall didn't realize he was staring at James until the older boy looked up at him. It seemed that one look was all the encouragement James needed.

"My Dad left last night," his voice was small, like he was admitting a black secret. In a way, Kendall figured, he was.

Neither Kendall nor Logan spoke at first, but Carlos leaned in closer, pressing his shoulder against James'.

With a heartbreaking smirk devoid of any humor, James went on. "He's been cheating on my Mom for months…she's cheated on him, too. Last night…they fought. And he left," his voice broke and he closed his eyes, trying to maintain control. "He's not coming back…" and then there was a tear, but he quickly brushed it away.

Kendall moved then. Tilting forward from his chair opposite the couch, he wrapped a strong hand around James' knee. "It's okay, Jamie. You don't need to hold it in anymore."

Sniffing, James shook his head and chuckled sadly. Even then, he was trying to lighten the situation. "No, I'm okay. I really don't think I've got anything left. It's just…" he stopped, fighting with himself.

"What is it?" Carlos tried, innocent as he was.

James sighed. He figured it was too late to turn back now. "H-he said…" then shook his head, deciding to start over. "My Dad was my hero. And last night, he told me he never wanted a son," tears built again, but this time James couldn't stop them. "He hates me."

Even as a silent sob ripped from his throat, James was already composing himself. Carlos put an arm around his back, rubbing rhythmic circles just below his shoulders. "Anyway, Mom's not taking it well. She's been in and out of therapy the last month. Last night…she was in the hospital. My Aunt Annie's gon'na live with us for a while until she's…stable, I guess," James tried to rattle off these facts like he was talking about the weather.

It didn't work.

Logan could see James' breathing starting to break into choppy bursts again. Of course, James was trying to hide it. He casually placed his mug on the coffee table, hoping everyone would ignore just how badly he was shaking. Then, grabbing a pillow, he clutched it to his chest and dropped his head into the fluffy material. As Carlos ran a brotherly hand through James' hair, Logan and Kendall exchanged the glances of concerned parents.

_We've got'ta do something_,it said.

Nodding, Kendall decided to throw caution to the wind. "James, why didn't you tell us?"

James lifted his head from the pillow, but only just enough to stare at the floor. "I…couldn't…" his voice was scarcely a whisper, and it frightened Kendall.

"You can tell us anything, Jamie. You don't have to face this alone," cooed Carlos.

James shuddered a nod and squeezed the pillow tighter. "Everything h-hurts,"

Logan noticed James' breathing getting worse; unsteady and shallow. The look in James' eyes was glassy and dull, almost like he was concussed. "James—?" even as he opened his mouth, James' trembling turned to violent shivers and pants to huffs. In the span of a second, Logan felt himself morph from worry to panic as James crumbled onto the couch, leaving Carlos with a lap-full of a very ill, unconscious boy.

"James!"

In a flash, Kendall and Logan were crowding around Carlos as the young Latino started to cry. "Guys?" he begged as he held and shook James from where he'd fallen in his lap. "What's wrong with him?!"

"It's okay, Carlitos," Logan tried to comfort while checking James' breathing and heartbeat. When he found James' strong pulse, he visibly relaxed. "I think he's just overwhelmed. My cousin used to get panic attacks a lot; this looks like the same thing. He'll be okay."

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Kendall asked with wide eyes. Logan could see how hard their leader was trying not to freak out.

"No, I don't think so…that would probably make it worse. As long as he's breathing okay and his heart rate is normal, he should be able to sleep it off."

As if on cue, Mrs. Knight turned to the corner with intentions of a quick spy-peak on the boys. But seeing their current state made her jump into full nurse-mode. "Boys! Is James okay?!"

Strengthening himself, Kendall looked up and tried to smile. "He had a panic attack and passed out."

"Oh my," she gasped, leaning over the couch to brush a hand over James' forehead. "He feels warm. We should get him to the hospital."

"No, Mama Knight!" Logan jumped loudly, before steeling himself for a quieter response. "Please, I really think he just needs to sleep it off. Waking up in a hospital would make it _so_ much worse for him."

Mrs. Knight looked stern as she thought over this, but quickly softened. "Okay, but if he doesn't wake up by tonight, we're going to have to get some help," Logan nodded at this, consenting, and Kendall and Carlos followed suit. With her face twisted in worry, Mrs. Knight crossed her arms. "You boys make him comfortable and let me know if anything changes. I'm going to call Annie and let her know what's going on. I think James should stay here a few days."

"Thanks, Mom," Kendall murmured, trying hard to hide the quiver in his voice. He couldn't believe this was happening. He knew something had been wrong with James' home-life for a while, but to be so bad, so heartbreaking to turn his best friend into _this_…Kendall didn't know if he should nestle James in his arms or go hunt down the boy's father.

Thankfully, his heart overcame his temper in that moment. "I guess we should make him comfortable, at least," he said, moving to pull James' legs up onto the couch and cover him with the blanket that had been wrapped about his feet. He gave a look to Carlos to move, but the Latino shook his head like an obstinate child.

"I wan'na stay here," he begged. Neither Logan nor Kendall could hold back smiles at Carlos's protective nature. They knew there was no force on earth that would get him to move, so they smiled and nodded. And as they sat back in an old love seat across from the couch, the scene before them would have been heartwarming if not so dismaying.

James was enveloped by his favorite fuzzy red quilt like a stuffed burrito; his hands were pulled to his chest, trembling now and then and twisting into the blanket's fabric. While a small pillow was under his head, it was two small legs that elevated him. Carlos had propped his legs up on the coffee table for comfort and wrapped his arms around his (secretly) favorite brother; one arm hanging loosely over James' waist, the other petting the older boy's damp hair like he was a loved puppy.

Even despite the situation, Kendall could swear he saw James' lips pull into a gentle smile in his sleep. His own heart settled a little then. They'd make everything alright.

* * *

The first thing James noticed when he woke up was that he was warm. But not the kind of warm that he'd grown used to: not that stuffy, claustrophobic heat that comes with fever and anxiety. This warm was calm, peaceful, and _safe_. Snuggling deeper into the fluffiness cocooning his body, he took a deep, cleansing breath…and then he remembered.

He couldn't breathe, before. He remembered feeling like his lungs were shutting down, like his head was going to explode without air. Then, he remembered hearing Kendall calling his name.

Peeling his eyes open, he realized just exactly where he was. From his view, lying there on the couch, he could see Kendall and Logan asleep on the smaller sofa across the room. He snorted a tired little laugh. Kendall appeared to have fallen asleep sitting up; his head was thrown over the back of the cushions and mouth was hanging open. Logan, for his part, was wrapped under a pink blanket (no doubt Katie's), coiled in a little ball with head on the armrest and feet pushing on Kendall's side.

For a second, James wondered where Carlos was, but soon found an answer when he suddenly became aware of a small movement in the pillow behind his head. Looking up, he found his pillow to _be_ Carlos. The young Latino was fast asleep, with head resting between the crook of the armrest and back of the couch. Only now did James become aware that it was Carlos's arm that had been the comforting weight around him that made him feel so safe, so at peace. Settling back down, James closed his eyes and took another deep inhale. Kendall really _was_ right, of course: he could rely on his brothers for anything. Even if his own family was falling apart, they would always been there to help him pick up the pieces.

If he could only talk to them.

Frowning, James pulled out a hand from under the blanket and stared at his outstretched fingers. They were still and strong; all traces of the trembling that had been haunting him for weeks now vanished.

Then, he felt Carlos's hand gently run up his shoulder. "How're you feeling?" he said softly, not wanting to wake up Logan or Kendall.

Turning to look up at Carlos, James felt himself smile. Instantly Carlos mirrored his expression. "Better than I have in a long time."

"Good," Carlos nodded his approval, than affectionately patted James' head. "Now get off'a me, I got'ta pee."

Chuckling, James pulled himself up just far enough for Carlos to bolt out from under him and off to the bathroom.

The movement was just enough to wake up Kendall, but what began as annoyance quickly melted into joy and relief when he caught the grin on James' face. Logan was quick to follow suit, but when he woke, he found James and Kendall locked in a silent conversation of meaningful stares and smiles from across the room. He smirked a little bit, too, knowing this was a good sign.

It was their way of communicating, Kendall and James. And something Logan hadn't seen in far too long. Now he was _sure_ they had their James back.

**TBC**

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**A/N: **Just one chapter left!


	5. Freezing is Better

**A/N:** Here it is! The final chapter...the epilogue, if you will :) HUGE thanks to everyone who has followed and reviewed. I really appreciate each and every one.

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**Panic  
****Chapter 5: Freezing is Better**

A while later, after a few hours of mindless video games in Kendall's basement den, the boys were finally starting to feel like everything was back to normal. Of course, it wasn't really: James' dad still wasn't coming home, and his mom was still slightly suicidal, but for the first time in months, James didn't feel like he had to take it alone.

Even now, as he sat between his best friends, yelling as Carlos stole the last life-pack, he couldn't figure out why he had been hiding anything in the first place. Looking back, he felt like he'd had duct tape over his mouth the whole time. When Carlos finally managed to assassinate them all, James decided to ask Logan.

"Hey, so, Logan," he started a little awkwardly, not really wanting to ruin the fun of the moment. When Logan looked at him with an encouraging smile, he suddenly knew it was okay. "So what happened to me earlier? I mean…why couldn't I breathe right?"

Logan's expression instantly became serious, and Kendall and Carlos forgot their game. "You had a panic attack, man," he watched James' expression carefully as his eyes went wide in recognition and nodded. "Have you ever felt like that before?"

Thinking on it, everything started to click in James' mind. "Yeah…a few times. It was never bad until yesterday though."

"During practice?" guessed Kendall.

James nodded. "Yeah, it was weird. I just totally spaced out…then banged into Marc."

Carlos jumped forward. "Wait, so that _turd_ punched you for accidently _banging into him_?" it suddenly occurred to all the boys that they'd never really found out what happened on the ice.

James just nodded, but Logan knew there was still something left to be said on a medical level. "James, I've seen people deal with panic attacks before. Unfortunately, it's not always something that just goes away," he was trying to find the lightest way to put what he needed to say, but James beat him to it.

"You mean, I might keep getting them."

It was Logan's turn to nod, albeit sadly. "Most likely."

A heavy silence hovered between them for a minute, until an idea struck Logan. "But! You _can_ control it…by letting us in. By _talking_ to us when you feel stuff building up."

Sighing, James ran a hand through his hair. "But that's just the problem. When it gets bad…it's like…" finding words was more difficult than James thought it'd be. "It's like I literally _can't_ speak."

The boys all shared an expression of deep thought at this. No matter how tired they might have been, they _were_ going to solve this, _tonight_.

Seconds passed, then minutes. James was starting to feel uncomfortable with the deep silence, when Carlos suddenly jumped to his feet. "Ooh! You could give us a sign! Like, some way we would know something is up even when you can't say it!"

They all looked to Logan, searching for his approval as the 'doctor' of the four. "Actually, that could work. Something that you would only do when you felt an attack coming on, yeah. Good idea, Carlitos!"

"Okay, but what am I supposed to do when I feel like I _can't do_ anything?" James argued lightly. Internally, he was beyond frustrated that he really _couldn't_ control his own emotions, but a bigger part of him knew his friends didn't think any less of him for it. And besides, the reality of his life at that moment would probably have half the kids in school paralyzed.

_Wait_, James thought. _Lightbulb._

"What if I freeze?"

The guys stared at him, confused. "Freeze?" asked Kendall.

"Yeah, like if I can't say anything, and I already can't breathe, what if I just…_freeze?_" abruptly, James halted his movements for a second to demonstrate.

"Well, it _is_ noticeable. And not something you'd normally do," Logan started to nod. "Yeah, that could work."

Then Kendall smiled. "Then it's settled. James, next time you feel overwhelmed, just freeze, and we'll fix it."

Grinning, James nodded, though a little shyly. "You guys are the best."

"Na," returned Kendall. "We're just family."

Logan and Carlos beamed, too, each clapping James on a shoulder.

Kendall reached for his game controller and his grin twisted. "Now, let's quit the love fest and get back to murdering each other, shall we?"

* * *

Years later, Gustavo and Kelly were more than a little concerned when Kendall, Logan, and Carlos came running into the Studio carrying James between them. The tallest boy wasn't exactly unconscious, but _frozen_; eyes wide and face stuck in a look somewhere between faked excitement and panic. His body was rigid and fists clenched and his friends barreled into the Studio calling for Gustavo.

"Dogs! What is going on?!" Gustavo bellowed, hiding his worry with fake anger.

Kendall grinned sheepishly for a second before deciding it better to just tell their boss the truth. "Long story short, James' mom showed up and she wants to take James back to Minnesota, but he doesn't want to go, so he started having a panic attack and froze," he took a deep breath, ignoring the look on Kelly's face. "Don't worry, he's fine, we just need a loud noise to break him out of it."

"Wait," unlike Gustavo, Kelly had no problems showing _exactly_ how worried she was. "Shouldn't we take him to a doctor or something?"

Logan shook his head while struggling a little to hold up his part of James' weight. "No, he'll be fine. This isn't the first time he's frozen."

Exchanging a look, Gustavo shrugged. "Well, okay then. Put him in the booth and I'll get somebody with a metal guitar."

While the boys shuffled into the sound booth, Kelly shook her head. "Logan said this has happened before."

In a rare show of affection, Gustavo touched a gentle hand to Kelly's arm. "Those boys care more for each other than anyone I've ever seen. If they say he'll be okay, then I believe them."

Breaking into a sad little smile as she watched Carlos give the frozen James a quick hug, Kelly shook her head. "Me too."

**End.**

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**A/N: **Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed reading! Until next time,

~Strider


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